


Abyssinia

by jilloreilly



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Someone love him, Whump, papa potter to the rescue, poor baby, radar doesnt want to be a bother, radar is sad, radar needs hugs, sleep deprived radar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 14:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20409208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jilloreilly/pseuds/jilloreilly
Summary: It's not always convenient having that sixth sense.Radar is having some serious trouble with Henry's death and trusting this new colonel. It reaches a breaking point when sleep-deprived Radar, tired of being tortured by his mind, shows a desperate call for help.





	Abyssinia

**Author's Note:**

> This might suck. However, I cried a little while writing it, so that's always a good sign! 
> 
> Might be my last Mash whump for a hot minute. Had to get all my Radar feels out of the way. Please stay tuned for my next story! Probably Robin Hood (BBC, 2006).
> 
> I'm NOT great at proof-reading. If something is off in any way, COMMENT!!!!

Dear Colonel Sherman Potter, 

I have been made aware that you will be preceding me after I leave the 4077th. As happy as I am to be back in the states, there are just a few things I need to let you know before I go.  
First and foremost, there are more than a few drink selections in my liquor cabinet. They won't let me bring them all on the helicopter. Something about glass bottles not traveling well. Use them wisely. My company clerk will give you the keys.  
Second, keep a close eye on two doctors by the names of Benjamin Franklin Pierce and John Mcintyre. They're mighty good doctors, but you can't leave them alone together for two long or they could burn the entire unit.  
And lastly. This is the important one, so pay attention. I may not be the most serious guy in the army, but I mean this from the bottom of my heart, Colonel. There is a boy in this camp by the name of Walter "Radar" O'Reilly. He is a corporal, as well as the aforementioned company clerk. He is also the most special eighteen-year-old you'll ever come across. I'm not going to miss much about this hellhole, but Radar...well, I'll miss that little fellow.  
Don't underestimate him. That brilliance may come in a small package, but it's there. He'll never leave you in the lurch. He's the best at his job around.  
Then, there's the opposite. I'll sleep a lot better if I know someone's taking care of him. Radar won't let you do it unless you go roundabout--he doesn't like to be fawned over, and he certainly doesn't like to ask for help. But he's a lost kid without a dad and a tent awful far away from his real bedroom. Just promise me you won't let him get sad. Don't let him be by himself. Take care of him for me. You won't find a better young man in Korea. Maybe I'll see him again someday when he gets home. I hope so. I'll miss the kid.  
Good luck and abyssinia -Henry 

____________________________________

Radar sat numbly on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor. His fingers reached clumsily for the worn-out bear lying beside him without turning his head.  
He'd thought the nights like this were over.  
There it was again. Eyes screwed shut, Radar braced himself against the edge of the bed, squeezing his bear to his belly. His mind was screaming at him. The sound of helicopter propellers and chaotic, confused voices pounding cruelly against his brain. Henry Blake's eyes were as wide as the moon, a slightly-more-panicked version of the look he would get when Radar would try to get him to actually understand what he was signing for once. He opened his mouth to scream, but there wasn't time. All that followed was a loud splash, and a muffled gasp. Then, darkness. Nothingness.  
Radar's eyes shot open. A high-pitched whimper escaped his lips. He tried to stand, but his shaking legs gave way, body hitting the floor. "OW!" Radar squeaked loudly, wincing and doubling over his knees as his right hand sliced across the sharp corner of his nightstand. He grabbed his hand, breathing sharply. Instantly, a line of bright red blood appeared across his palm. "OwowowowOW!" Radar hissed, hugging his hand to his chest. It stung like HELL.  
But it was distracting him from the far-worse pain in his mind.  
Radar bit his lip, examining his palm. It was getting puffy around the edges of the scrape. Oh well, it was his fault anyway. If he wasn't so goddamn distracted all the time. He wanted to get up off the floor, stop acting like a little kid and go do something, but the thoughts surging through his mind had made him feel as though his legs wouldn't hold his body weight and the seat of his pants was stuck on the floor. Every time he blinked Henry's face would flash like a bolt of lightning, MOCKING him. Terrified eyes. Open mouth.  
Radar couldn't take this.  
He let his head fall into his hands, gripping the edges of his knit cap until his knuckles turned white. He wanted his bear. It was only a few feet away on the bed, but he couldn't even make himself raise his head. There was nothing he could do, but fight back the tears rising in his eyes. Blood had begun to trickle down his wrist, a black bruise forming around the palm of his hand. How much longer would this go on?  
Radar was so caught up in his tortured thoughts, he didn't notice the new, older colonel walk in. Silently taken aback, Sherman Potter watched, a slow understanding seeping over him as Radar seemed to crumple onto the floor. A few minutes longer, and...finally, he cleared his through softly.  
"AHH!" Radar jumped, nearly back onto his feet, screaming and grabbing his heart. Instinctively, he kicked his bear into the corner away from Potter's sight. "Oh, Sir! I'm sorry, you scared me!"  
"Whoa! Corporal! Glad to know your reflexes are working!" Potter chuckled, taking a step closer. "Everything okay in here?" He knew, but he'd give the poor kid a chance to come to him first.  
No. No, it was not okay. But this stranger wouldn't care about his worries.  
"Oh, yessir. I'm sorry, Sir. I-I tripped. I was just getting up."  
"If you say so, son." Radar took a deep breath, shifting uncomfortably a bit, not meeting the unfamiliar colonel's eye. "Hey...Corporal...come here a moment, would you?"  
Radar's head snapped up. "What?"  
"Come here." Radar shuffled slowly towards Potter, the distrust clear in his eyes. "Let me see your hand."  
"My hand?" Radar jammed his wounded hand into his pocket. "Why?"  
"Radar."  
Scowling a little, Radar slowly held his hand out. "I hit it on my desk when I tripped. It's okay."  
"Radar, your hand is about twice the size it's supposed to be. Why aren't you bandaging that? You've got blood on your jacket."  
"Oh, I was just about to go."  
"Alright." Potter said simply, touching Radar's hand with gentle fingers. He couldn't help but notice how hard the young corporal flinched at his touch. "You know, it's not easy treating yourself with one hand. Why don't you let me?" It shouldn't have been him. It should have been Henry Blake. He was the kid's surrogate father, practically. But Henry Blake wasn't here anymore.  
"Oh, no. That's okay, Sir. I don't wanna be a bother." A pink blush rose to Radar's cherubic cheeks. "I'll be fine."  
"Come on. Sit down. You look a little overtired. That's an order."  
Radar suppressed a huff. Every moment with Potter was a reminder that Henry was gone. Of course he looked overtired. He hadn't slept in days. Every time he closed his eyes...  
"I'll be right back. Stay put." Potter stood up, making his way to his office. "So, you just tripped, huh?"  
"What? Oh, um...yeah. Yeah, I tripped. Clumsy me."  
"That happens sometimes." Potter returned, bandages and ice wrapped in paper towels in hand. "Alright. Let's take a look." Radar winced audibly this time, crying out through gritted teeth and yanking his hand away as Potter touched the bloody wound. "Sorry, kid."  
"It's okay, sir. I mean it. I don't need you to do this. I'll clean it up. Please." Radar met Potter's eye, feeling that ever-present, imaginary dagger stab mercilessly through his heart. In the reflection in Potter's eyes, he saw Henry. His friend. The only father he'd ever known.  
Potter opened his mouth to speak, when Radar suddenly froze. His head cocked to the side. Potter knew that look. Already? They'd been in surgery for eight hours not long ago.  
"Choppers, sir. Loaded." Radar whispered.  
"Right. I suppose that means I'm off. Get that hand taken care of, oka--Radar? Hey, Corporal, what's wrong?" Potter froze. The boy had gone positively white.  
Choppers.  
Propellers.  
They were whirring exceptionally loudly in his ears. He couldn't hear anything else.  
That was it. That was what killed him.  
The sound of screeching metal over the failing propellers filled his ears. God, he hated being a 'radar' sometimes. He didn't want to see this stuff. He didn't want to hear it.  
They were screaming now. The pilot was warning Henry. Henry just looked confused.  
"Corporal? O'Reilly, answer me!" Potter snapped, grabbing Radar's shoulder.  
Like a landmine exploding after a carelessly-tossed pebble, unexpected and dangerous, Radar suddenly lashed out, succeeding in catapulting himself off the bed, landing with a THUMP and pained squeak from Radar, flat on his bottom.  
That seemed to snap the young corporal awake. His eyes widened in pain, looking around as though he'd been asleep for the past minute. Mouth open, he stuttered something incoherently, catching the eye of this new colonel, staring at him like he'd lost his mind.  
"Radar O'Reilly, what the hell is the matter with you? Was that aimed at me? Not a wise move, son." Potter leapt to his feet, standing over Radar, who looked smaller than ever. It was then that Potter truly noticed the dark circles under the young man's eyes.  
Radar shifted painfully to a seat on his knees, pure fear evident on his round face. "I wasn't trying to hit you. I wasn't, Sir! I'm sorry! I'm sorr--" He was cut off by a loud sob escaping his lips. Screwing his eyes shut, Radar's rosy face crumpled right there in front of Potter. "I...I...I..."  
Potter was on the floor beside him in a second. "What? What's going on, son?"  
"I k-k-keep seeing C-Colonel Blake!" Radar exploded, bursting into heavy sobs, as if a switch had been flipped "I ke-eep seeing him d-die over and over and over and over again!"  
"What?" Potter put his hand on Radar's shoulder. "Slow down. Take a deep breath for me."  
Radar inhaled sharply, before exhaling a loud wail. "C-Colonel Blake! Every time I try an' close my eyes or go to s-sleep..." His entire body jerked with a hiccup. "It won't go awa-a-ay!" He drew his knees into his chest, letting his head fall onto them.  
"I thought you were having trouble with that." Potter said softly. Poor kid. He'd never seen Radar cry before. Well, aside from that movie that had baby animals in it, but they'd all seen that coming. "Okay. Let's get you up, okay? Can you stand up for me? C'mere. I've got you. That's good, now." Potter put his arm gently around Radar, guiding him to his feet, letting the young man fall weakly against him, half-supporting, half-dragging the kid to his bed. He helped Radar sit gently on the edge, keeping his hand protectively on his back. He wasn't letting another thing happen to him.   
"I'm s-s-sorry."  
"It's okay, Corporal." Potter reassured him simply.  
"I can't stop thinking about it. I had to b-be the one to tell ev'ryone! And they're all okay now, so maybe it's 'cause I got the telegram, but I'm n-not, and I don't know what do!" Radar wailed, scrunching up his face, trying and failing to hold back the tears cascading down his face. "Radar, listen to me. I'm a pretty wise guy when I have to be, and I can tell you without a doubt that you aren't the only one. Other people in this camp are hurting. I know it's not easy to see, but they might just be as secretive as you! Do you understand?" Radar was silent. "I'm sorry you had to deliver the news. There's no easy way to do it and no easy way to get past it. I lost friends in World War One, O'Reilly. Friends that were right beside one minute, and lying dead the next. It's not easy. To tell you the truth, I would be far more worried about you if it DIDN'T affect you. He was important to you and he died a death that I wouldn't wish on anybody. But Radar, time makes a difference. I know you don't believe me now, but it'll get better. And that doesn't mean you have to forget about him. You can carry around memories forever. That's the beautiful thing about life. When one stops, it doesn't really disappear. And it doesn't mean yours has to end, too."  
"I keep picturing how scared he musta been. How bad it musta been." Radar sniffed.  
"Do you know how fast it would seem, Radar?" Potter rubbed Radar's back securely. "From a purely realistic approach, he probably didn't have time to register what was happening. It would have been fast. It's likely he wouldn't have even had time to feel pain."  
"I understand. There's no silver-lining when it comes to death. But, Radar, he's probably real happy up there in Heaven. He's probably got his liquor cabinet and his fishing hats, and he's probably entertaining everybody else with stories of that crazy MASH unit he worked in."  
"You believe t-that?" Radar hiccuped.  
"Sure I do. If I didn't, I wouldn't have gotten myself through the first few deaths in the Great War."  
"Sir?"  
"What, Radar?"  
"Are you gonna write me up on report for cryin' in front of a superior officer?"  
Potter looked incredulously at the kid for a minute. "No! Why would I do that?!"  
"It just...it seems frowned upon."  
"Buffalo bagels. We're all entitled to at least one breakdown. Lord knows I had my share."  
Radar bit his lip. "I wish you'd'a got to meet him."  
"I do too. Sounds like a fine man." Radar nodded. "Now," Potter reached carefully for the bandages that had been abandoned. The ice was nothing but a puddle of water through a soggy paper towel, but the bandage had never even made it to coming into contact with Radar's skin. "Let me see that hand, okay?"  
Radar looked up a little, wiping his eyes and nodding. The distrust was gone from his damp gray eyes.  
Potter used the melted ice to wipe away the remaining bloodstains around the cut, cupping Radar's small-but-swollen hand in his. "You bruised this bad. That's gonna be nice and purple soon." He wound the bandage around it affectionately, rubbing his thumb over Radar's palm as Radar softly cried out the last few tears he'd held in since Henry's death.  
"Thank you, Sir." Radar sniffed, wiping his sleeve across his nose.  
"How long has it been since you slept, Corporal?"  
"About...um..."  
"Radar?"  
"Forty-eight hours at least. I don't really remember."  
"Forty-eight...Radar, why don't you rest a bit? I can manage without you for one night. You should try and sleep. Lord Almighty, you look like you're going to collapse any second." Potter lifted Radar's chin so his downcast face was level with his, peering concernedly at the young man. Besides the dark circles under his eyes, Radar, all cried-out and sniffling and hiccuping, had a dull look about him, features wilting. He was slowly working himself to death.  
"Oh, no, Sir. I'll be okay. I'd rather work, anyway. It's a good distraction. Every time I try and sleep, I just end up thinking."  
"You have to go to sleep sometime, O'Reilly."  
"I know, Sir. Sometime."  
"You look tired, son." Potter rubbed Radar's back as the kid brushed the last few tears from his cheeks. Radar nodded, hanging his head in resignation.  
Potter slung his arm around Radar. "You're going to be okay. You'll see. It's okay, it's okay..."  
A minute went by. Radar remained silently, head down, breath steady. It wasn't until Potter unwound his arm from Radar's shoulders, suddenly feeling Radar's small weight slump limply against him, that he realized Radar had fallen fast asleep. He almost laughed out loud. It had been that easy. He'd just needed someone to confide in. That was all.  
Careful not to wake the kid, who, sound asleep, looked as youthfully sweet as he ever had, Potter guided him down, laying him gently so his head rested on the pillow.  
"Sweet dreams, Corporal. You deserve it." Potter whispered. In response, Radar mumbled something in his sleep that sounded curiously like "Iwantmybear." Potter grinned silently, retrieving the bear that Radar had attempted to hide when he'd seen Potter coming and tucking it around Radar's carefully-wrapped hand.  
Once upon a time, Colonel Sherman Potter had made a promise to a man he'd never met. He intended to keep that promise.  
Making his way back to his own office, Potter dug in his desk drawer until he discovered the letter he'd held on to since his arrival. He smiled slightly as he read the last few lines. 

'I'll sleep a lot better if I know someone's taking care of him. Radar won't let you do it unless you go roundabout--he doesn't like to be fawned over, and he certainly doesn't like to ask for help. But he's a lost kid without a dad and a tent awful far away from his real bedroom. Just promise me you won't let him get sad. Don't let him be by himself. Take care of him for me. You won't find a better young man in Korea. Perhaps I'll see him again someday when he gets home. I hope so. I'll miss the kid.  
Good luck and abyssinia -Henry'


End file.
